


Moonlit Dance

by Kamikaze_Embers



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gay, I'm Sorry, Late at Night, M/M, Slow Dancing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, shippy shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:37:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamikaze_Embers/pseuds/Kamikaze_Embers
Summary: Let's run away together, just you and me.





	Moonlit Dance

The air is cool, the gentle scent of rain drifting past. The stars shine above them, small white specks against the pitch black night sky. There’s a full moon high above, casting a gentle glow through the damp leaves of the nearby trees. The grass is still wet, small drops catching the light like tiny gems. Fireflies flicker about, filling the air with gentle yellow glows. A breeze rushes past, carrying the faint fragrance of flowers. It’s soft, like a dream.

The two stand in the middle of the clearing, trees all around them like a protective ring. Here, they are safe. Even so, summery blue eyes dart around, tense with worry. His face is blank, cautious. Even though no one else is here, he cannot relax. He shivers as his partner leans close, cupping his face in gentle hands. One has a distinct metallic shine that catches his eye, much as he hates to stare.

“It’s okay, Brownie. Everyone else is asleep.” He murmurs, rubbing a thumb in circles over Brownie’s cheek. The other leans into the touch and sighs quietly. He looks around again, even as he rests his head against the other’s chest, listening to the gentle heartbeat. The gears turn and click somewhere nearby- probably the arm or his wings. Nothing else is said for a long time.

“B-52. I know. I just can’t help but worry. This is extremely unprofessional of me. It’s so unlike me, to sneak out like this. But lately, these nights have become the only time we have together, to ourselves. I’m often busy in the restaurant, and you’re out in battle. I used to find myself waiting by the door, waiting for you to return. I was always worried you might not come back.” A tear falls down his cheek, blue eyes shining with unshed tears that threaten to spill.

“I promised you I would return, and I did. You usually end up having to take care of my parts, and I’m sorry about that.” His gloved hand reaches behind his head shyly, a soft pink blush on his porcelain cheeks. Brownie has to stand on his tiptoes, but he reaches up and kisses both of the other’s warm, soft cheeks. He wraps his arms around B-52 and holds him close, the mechanical arm trailing through the dark brown hair.

“I love you very much. I think that’s the word, at least.” He blushes again, embarrassed by his lack of knowledge about human emotions. A single icy blue eye darts to one side, flustered. Brownie can’t help but chuckle- seeing the cocktail like this is definitely rare, and he’s glad the other is comfortable with him enough to let him see this side of the indifferent Food Soul. In turn, Brownie has found himself opening up to B-52, allowing his stoic attitude to fall away when the two are alone.

“Yes, I would agree.” The shorter male whispers, resting his head against the cold metal of the mechanical shoulder. B-52’s hand hovers, shaking with uncertainty, then he begins to rub the other’s back before resting his arm around his waist. He gently rests his head on top of Brownie’s, holding him close, protectively. He gives a quick glance around before letting one of his rare smiles cross his face as he leans even closer to whisper. 

“Shall we dance, my sweet Brownie?”  
He smiles and nods, letting the silence linger a while longer before speaking.

“I would love to, 52.”

Their laughter fills the summer air as they dance the night away like a fairytale.

The next morning, they are tired but happy, still curled up together in the forest clearing.


End file.
